


take my hand (there's a world I need to know)

by ariadne_odair



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Didn't Know They Were Dating, M/M, Magic Reveal, Merlin is oblivious, Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), also relevant later, but in love idiots, idiots both of em, that'll be relevant later, they will get there, ughh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-10-26 08:35:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20739341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariadne_odair/pseuds/ariadne_odair
Summary: Looking at Arthur, framed in the sunlight breaking through the trees, makes something flutter in Merlin’s chest. He turns away quickly, gripping the reins. “You’re annoying.” He hears Arthur trying to muffle a huff of laughter. “This whole trip is annoying.”Arthur sighs. “Is that what you’re so grumpy about? You’ve been suspiciously quiet since we’ve left Camelot. Not even one comment about how high the trees are, or something equally idiotic.”When Merlin and Arthur share a 'thank god you're not injured, I thought you were hurt,' kiss, that's all it is. Or at least Merlin is certain that's all it is, because there is no way Arthur has actual - feelings for him. Now he just has to figure out why Arthur keeps looking at him like that.(In which Merlin is oblivious and should have just listened to Gauis in the first place.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This really came out of nowhere! The idea just came to me for these two and I ran with it! The next two chapters are likely to much longer, as there is a lots more I want to build on and explore.
> 
> I hope people enjoy this!

If Merlin has to go on one more hunt with Arthur and the knights, he is going to gallop off into the forest and _never come back._

Merlin hates hunting. Merlin can’t see the appeal in chasing down some poor deer. You just get stabbed by branches on the way and have to listen to all the knights being overly masculine and arrogant on the way back. Like shooting a stag with a crossbow makes your cock any bigger.

Merlin said this to Arthur once and Arthur choked on his dinner and went purple. Merlin has never seen someone look so mortified. Arthur didn’t even lecture Merlin on impropriety, possibly as he couldn’t form any sentences or look Merlin in the eye.

It’s not that Merlin’s overly sensitive; you couldn’t be in Ealdor, when meat was scarce and no-one had enough money to trade for more. Merlin has skinned his fair share of rabbits. He gets hunting for survival; the issue he has is hunting for sport. 

Presently, he’s riding alongside Arthur and trying to pretend they’re just out for a ride. Slightly difficult, with all the crossbows, not to mention the packs of knights behind them, but. Merlin is doing his best.

It’s even more difficult to pretend he’s just out for a leisurely trot, when Arthur punches him in the arm. “Stop scowling like that, Merlin, you’ll scare off all the deer.”

“_Good_,” Merlin mutters.

Arthur frowns at him. “I heard that.”

“Good,” Merlin repeats, louder this time. Maybe he can get that vein in Arthur’s forehead to throb. “I’m glad your hearing is working, Sire. Wouldn’t want you to miss any deer.”

Arthur’s face is doing that thing where he’s trying to decide whether Merlin is being sassy or not. “No, we wouldn’t.”

Merlin looks ahead. “Definitely not.”

“That would ruin the entire hunt.”

“Quite right, Sire.”

“It would be a waste of valuable time for myself and the knights.”

“Absolutely.”

“Stop agreeing with me!” Arthur snaps. His little outburst comes just as Sir Leon is riding past them. To his credit, Leon only halters for a moment, before he resolutely sets his jaw and urges his horse forward.

Merlin arches an eyebrow. “You don’t want me to agree with you?”

“No,” Arthur says automatically, then, “wait, no, I - “

Merlin sighs. “Because that goes against everything you’ve ever said - “

“Shut up, Merlin.” Arthur runs a hand through his hair, looking exasperated. “God, you’re so _annoying_.”

Somehow, that makes Merlin feel a little better about this trip. It may be the easy banter between them, the usual rhythm of teasing and joking. It may be how handsome Arthur looks at that moment. Lips slightly parted, golden hair a little ruffled and eyes the colour of the sky in summer. 

Looking at Arthur, framed in the sunlight breaking through the trees, makes something flutter in Merlin’s chest. He turns away quickly, gripping the reins. “You’re annoying.” He hears Arthur trying to muffle a huff of laughter. “This whole trip is annoying.”

Arthur sighs. “Is that what you’re so grumpy about? You’ve been suspiciously quiet since we’ve left Camelot. Not even one comment about how high the trees are, or something equally idiotic.”

Merlin keeps his gaze on the reins in his hands. There’s a knot in the leather and he picks at it. 

“I thought you liked riding. You spend more time in the stables than on any other chore I give you. Unless you’re falling asleep in the hay again.”

Merlin scowls at that but doesn’t respond. His mare carries on at a steady pace. The other knights have ridden ahead, familiar now with Merlin and Arthur riding side by side and slowing their pace to argue.

“You always have something to - are you even listening?”

Merlin distantly acknowledges Arthur has stopped talking, before he startles, so shocked he almost slides out his saddle. Suddenly, there are warm fingers cupping Merlin’s face and turning him to face Arthur.

It’s as though the space between him and Arthur has been swallowed up, both horses brought to a stop. Arthur’s eyes are wide, like he hadn’t realised he was reaching for Merlin. His hands, however, are steady and firm on Merlin’s jaw. 

“Merlin.” Arthur’s voice is deeper than usual. “Seriously. What’s wrong?”

The pads of Arthur’s fingers are rough; the moment Merlin thinks that, his stomach flips. He suddenly can’t breathe, can’t _think_ \- 

“Merlin,” Arthur repeats quietly. The space between them seems infinitesimal now, They’re so close, Merlin could count the handful of freckles scattered over the bridge of Arthur’s nose. “I - do you - “

“Sire, the stag is ahead!”

Merlin and Arthur jerk apart like their clothes are on fire. Both horses also jolt, unhappy with the abrupt movements of their riders. Arthur quickly gets his horse under control, soothing him with a stroke to his arched neck. Merlin - unsurprisingly - is less graceful. 

Merlin slides out of his saddle, grapples desperately and manages to pull himself upright, which is entirely due to the credit of his horse by all accounts and no thanks to him. His mare is not at all happy and tosses her mane in annoyance.

Merlin is so busy soothing her, promising her the pick of the stables when they get back, that he completely misses the quiet, longing look Arthur gives him.

Instead what he sees when he finally looks up, is Arthur trotting into the distance, back to Merlin and scarlet cape rippling behind him.

  
  


-

The stag gets away.

Merlin definitely doesn’t have anything to do with it; that tree just fell down at an awkward moment and there definitely wasn’t any magic involved.

Despite losing the stag, the knights are in good spirits when Arthur orders them to set-up camp. The knights pitch the camp quickly and easily; they’ve done this hundreds of times and there’s a lot of laughing and joking. Even Leon grins at one of Gwaine’s jokes, which Gwaine immediately jumps on and exploits for all its’ worth.

Arthur watches them, a small smile on his lips. Merlin knows Arthur is giving the knights space to let off steam after a day of riding through the forest. It’s part of what makes Arthur such a good leader; he’s respected by his men, is attuned to them, doesn’t have to rule by fear when he knows when they all just need to let go for a bit.

Merlin fetches some water for the horses. His mare whinnies gratefully at him. He leans against her and presses a hand to her flank. His eyes slip closed as he feels her powerful muscles move beneath his hand, her coat soft and smooth, the comforting scent of horse.

“Getting comfortable, Merlin?”

Merlin doesn’t bother opening his eyes. “Yes, thanks.”

Arthur laughs. Merlin opens his eyes a sliver to see Arthur reach a hand out his own horse, running a gentle palm over the gelding’s nose. The horses all love Arthur, which would be infuriating if Merlin wasn’t fifty percent sure that Arthur was sneaking them all treats.

A yawn escapes Merlin’s mouth. Merlin stands up straight, giving his mare a final pat. “I’m going to fetch some firewood.”

Arthur narrows his eyes, peering at the woods behind Merlin. “On your own?”

Merlin opens his mouth to reassert he can find sticks all by himself, thank you, when something catches his eye. “Arthur, I think - what is Gwaine doing with that sword?”

Arthur whirls around. “What is he - Gwaine! I can’t leave you alone for five bloody minutes - “

Merlin laughs as Arthur stomps off. He heads out into the forest, scouring for branches. The dark is falling quicker now, but there are no branches on the main path Merlin can see, so he heads off into the denser areas. 

In hindsight, this wasn’t Merlin’s best idea, but it’s not like Merlin knew this would result in him falling down the side of a hill. 

Merlin is hunting through some bushes, when the ground gives way beneath him. The bushes are so thick that he can’t see the edge of the hill creeping up on him. The soil is loose and Merlin is heavier than a sodding berry bush, so when he places his weight on it the ground just disappears.

For a horrible, terrifying moment, there’s nothing beneath him. The fear is debilitating and then Merlin hits the side of the hill. He smashes into it awkwardly, legs scrabbling for purpose. Merlin slides all the way down but he reaches the bottom in a heap. 

His chest is heaving as he lays there, all the air knocked out of his lungs. He thinks he screamed as he fell, but he’s not sure. 

Tears prick at the corner of his eyes. Instinctively, he reaches for his magic, feels it alive and warm and thrumming through his veins. An irrational, terrified part of himself wanted to know it was still there and it’s comforting to feel it.

He groans as he struggles upwards, all his muscles protesting. He takes a few minutes for his mind to re-orientate himself. On a cursory inspection he hasn’t broken anything, but he’s going to have some serious bruises. His ankle is throbbing and he grits his teeth against the sharp burst of pain.

“Merlin! Merlin!” 

Merlin cranes his head, looking up. That’s Arthur’s voice. “Arthur!”

He can hear something thundering through the bushes, then Arthur’s head pops over the edge. It’s not that much of a drop - Merlin’s issue was that he stepped into thin air, then hit every clump of grass rolling the way down. 

“Merlin! Merlin, I’m coming! Don’t move!” 

“Like I’m going anywhere,” Merlin mutters, then winces as his head pounds. Apparently sarcasm is not good for injuries.

Arthur doesn’t slide down the hill as Merlin was expecting. He must find another way around, as a minute later Arthur comes bursting out of a small copse of trees opposite him. It’s a bit disorientating, really, but Merlin doesn’t have time to complain as Arthur is then throwing himself down in front of him. 

Merlin has never seen Arthur so upset; the thought is jarring, considering all the awful and gruesome and life-threatening scenarios Arthur (and Merlin) have been in. Arthur looks terrified. His hands are confident and sure as they run over Merlin’s side and he’s speaking in low, measured tones, but Merlin knows Arthur and he knows what Arthur looks like when he’s scared. He could count on one hand the time he’s seen that expression grace Arthur’s face and it’s never been in connection to Arthur’s own safety; always others, Morgana or his father or Gauis. 

“Don’t move, okay?” Arthur orders firmly. He’s running his hands over Merlin’s limbs, practised movements of steady hands who have checked hundreds of men for injuries on the battlefield. “Can you breathe? Any pain in your lungs?”

“No,” Merlin frowns. He tries to meet Arthur’s eyes, but Arthur is now looking at Merlin’s eyes, checking his pupils. “I don’t think there’s even any blood, Arthur, what - “

“There doesn’t need to be blood for it to be fatal.” That cool, calm tone again. “Gauis told me there can be bleeding inside, inside the body, which you don’t find out until later.”

“I know,” Merlin says irritably. “Gaius told me the same thing, I am actually studying to be his apprentice, out of the two of us - “ Merlin takes a deep breath. “Arthur, look at me.”

Arthur isn’t listening, so Merlin grabs his hands. Holds Arthur’s palms against his chest. “Arthur, I’m fine.”

Arthur’s gaze finally meets his. “I’m really, really bruised and I’m not sure about my ankle, but I’m fine.”

Arthur gazes at him, then says, in an awful, flat voice, “You screamed my name.”

The words ring in the air. All Merlin can hear is the echo of those four words: _you screamed my name._

“I - “ Merlin clears his throat, the noise too loud and abrupt in the silence that blankets them. “I don’t remember.”

Arthur’s bottom lip trembles. His hands are still pressed to Merlin’s chest, resting in the curve of his sternum. He looks away and Merlin blurts, in a sudden burst of courage and honesty, “But I would have.”

Arthur’s eyes are so hauntingly blue. 

“I would have,” Merlin repeats in a whisper. “I would have called your name.”

The intimacy is overwhelming; Arthur’s hands pressed to his chest, his words, Arthur’s words, _their words_ dancing in the air between them, unavoidable and so honest it cuts to the bone - 

“God, Merlin,” Arthur chokes, and then he kisses him.

It’s a soft kiss, chaste, a brush of lips and then Arthur is pulling away. It happens so fast that Merlin could almost believe he imagined it. Except, Merlin can still feel Arthur’s mouth on his, like a brand, like a promise.

But Arthur pulls away and for once - for the first time - Merlin can’t read the emotion in his eyes.

Then Sir Leon is scrabbling down the hill, almost sliding straight into Merlin but thankfully narrowly avoiding him. “Sire, what happened?”

Percival and Gwaine burst out the forest. Gwaine almost trips over his sword, but Percival is a bit more efficient. He checks Merlin, the same way Arthur did, and Merlin flushes at the memory of Arthur’s hands on him. This is a mistake, because Percival immediately asks Merlin if he has a fever and then there’s even more attention on him.

“Percival, Leon, help him to camp,” Arthur orders. “Gwaine, come with me.”

Gwaine doesn’t argue for once, his dark head towards Arthur’s blonde one as they discuss plans to pack-up the camp tomorrow.

Merlin ends up sandwiched between Percival and Leon, in the world’s most awkward three-legged race. His bruises are really starting to throb now and he can’t help the sharp intake of breath every time his left ankle touches the ground.

He sighs miserably. “I really hate hunting.”

Percival nudges him in what is probably meant to be a comforting way. “I’m sure we’ll get the stag next time.”

Merlin closes his eyes and curses everything and everyone. 


	2. Chapter 2

Merlin prepares for the worst on the ride back to Camelot.

Merlin is preparing for the _worst_; fire raining from the sky, griffons trampling the citadel, Uther beheading everything and everyone _worst_. There is no way that Camelot won't be in complete disarray, because there is no way that fate would actually give him and Arthur time to talk about what happened.

No, Merlin thinks decisively, they'll be some imminent disaster, which means he and Arthur will have to focus all their efforts on saving the day. There will be - conveniently - no opportunity to address what happened on the hunt.

Merlin knows this with complete certainty, because fate never cuts Merlin any slack and Merlin never gets to have nice things. A small part of Merlin is relieved - he has no idea what to say to Arthur anyway. He doesn't even know if he should say anything - Arthur, Arthur started all of this. Whatever this is. Arthur should bring it up. If he wants to. Which he might not because Arthur has probably kissed loads of people.

Gods, Merlin is so confused. 

Thank gods he definitely won't have to confront any of his issues.

-

"What do you mean there haven't been any disasters?" 

Gauis scoops some soup into a bowl and pushes it across to Merlin. "It's been very peaceful in Camelot since you've been gone."

Merlin stares at him. "Peaceful! You're telling me Camelot is _not_ in immediate danger? No enchantments? No magical beasts?"

Gauis sighs. "No, Merlin. It's been very calm, I managed to go a lot of research done into the - "

"I can't believe this!" Merlin snaps, pacing back and forth. "This is - there has to be something! There must be something terrorising the city!”

Gauis looks at him suspiciously. “Merlin, have you done something I should know about?”

Merlin sits down abruptly. “No. Of course not. No.”

Gauis looks completely disbelieving, so Merlin shoves a spoonful of soup into his mouth to avoid conversation. “Well, I hope not. You’re not fit to be causing anymore trouble with that ankle and those bruises.”

Gauis had wrapped Merlin’s bruises for him, putting an awful smelling poultice on his ribs to numb his entire right side. Merlin’s ankle was just twisted, so as long as he takes it slow he should be fine.

”You better head to bed early tonight and rest,” Gauis is saying. “Then tomorrow you can help me look for a recipe to cure the flu in the lower town. There’s a particularly important tome in the library that I - “

”Gauis,” Merlin blurts, then freezes.

Gauis sighs. “Yes, Merlin?”

Merlin stares down at the table. “I - have you - never mind.”

Merlin isn’t looking him in the eye but he knows Gauis is frowning. “Very well. As I was saying, this specific book has - “

”Gauis,” Merlin interrupts, screwing up all his courage. “Have you ever been confused why someone did something?”

Merlin chances a glance up through his eyelashes. Gauis looks bemused, but he sets his spoon down and leans forward. “Well, yes. The actions of others can often be a mystery.”

Merlin is going to stab himself with a spoon. “Have you ever had someone do something and then wondered if they meant it? Afterwards?”

Gauis nods slowly. “Yes. Often in times of high emotion or stress, we can act in ways we wouldn’t otherwise.”

”Oh.” It feels like a fist is squeezing his heart. “So the person might not have meant it?”

“Maybe. Or maybe in that situation, under that pressure, it brought out the person’s true feelings,” Gauis replies. “But it really depends on the situation.” 

Merlin rests his head on his palm, soup forgotten. “How do you know which is which?” 

Gauis leans forward. "Merlin, I would be able to help you more if I knew what you were talking about." 

"I'm, uh, speaking hypothetically."

"Merlin, how you have survived so long in Camelot when you're such an appalling liar, I do not know!" 

Merlin is about to retort he is in fact a very good liar, not that it's his greatest claim, when the door swings open. "Merlin, I - "

Merlin whips his head around to stare at the intruder. Arthur is stood in the doorway, eyes wide. Merlin stares at Arthur. Arthur stares at Merlin. There is a lot of staring. 

Gauis clears his throat loudly.

Arthur makes a noise like a startled cat. Merlin would it find it funny if he was capable of thought. "Gauis, I didn't know you were here."

Merlin can see the physical effort it takes Gauis not to respond to that. Arthur must do too, because he turns red and quickly babbles on. “I came to see how Merlin’s injuries have healed.”

Merlin stands up. His stool makes an awful screeching noise across the floor. Gauis answers Arthur. “He has some heavy bruising, Sire. His ankle should only be twisted, however I would recommend a day of rest, to be certain.”

Arthur bobs his head in agreement. “Of course. Whatever is needed.”

This is a perfect out, so Merlin has no idea why he blurts, “I can still serve you tomorrow, Sire.”

_What the actual fuck, Merlin._

“Merlin,” Gauis snaps. “If you’re on your feet all of tomorrow, it’ll set the healing process back and you could cause further damage.”

"I'll be fine." Merlin can hear the words coming out of his mouth, but someone else must be saying them.

Gauis is looking at him like he's lost his mind. Merlin feels like he has. Arthur kisses him once and now Merlin is voluntarily offering to do chores. 

(As if you weren't already gone for Arthur, the mean, honest part of Merlin's brain whispers. The kiss threw you off kilter, but you were already head over heels for your prince.)

(Merlin resolutely tells that part of his brain to _shut up_.)

"With your leave, Sire, I had planned for Merlin to spend tomorrow researching in the library."

Arthur ducks his head. "Of course. The King told me of the flu in the lower town. I hope we can find a cure."

It's really hard for Merlin to be frustrated at Arthur when Arthur is so _good_.

Thankfully, Arthur promptly ruins the moment by acting like a prat. "You'd be even less use to me than usual, Merlin."

Merlin rolls his eyes. Arthur pulls a face at him.

Gauis clears his throat. For a second time. 

"I'll see you in a day's time, Merlin," Arthur orders. "Goodnight, Gauis."

Arthur turns to leave. He reaches the door and his hand lingers on handle. It's a fleeting moment, but Merlin was watching and he sees how Arthur hesitates. He turns his head, and in the space between heartbeats, blues eyes meet Merlin's and then Arthur is gone.

Merlin sits back down abruptly. 

The room feels suddenly quiet, suddenly cold with Arthur's exit. Merlin stares down at his soup, throat tight with the sudden swell of emotions in his chest. 

Gauis doesn't say anything, but he does give Merlin two extra slices of bread which, on reflection, speaks volumes.

-

Merlin spends the rest of the day thumbing through old books in the library. He must look pretty pitiful, because Geoffrey doesn't bother him at all. Merlin starts the day at a table, but he ends it cross-legged, lent against on the shelves. The books are old and dusty; physically dusty from misuse. Uther clearly doesn't have much time for reading, in-between the tyranny and murder.

Reading through all the different volumes gets boring after a while. It also gives you a lot of time alone with your thoughts. At some point during hour three of ye olde illnesses, Merlin comes to the realisation he has a crush on Arthur. 

He wants to be outraged, but honestly he doesn't have the energy. It's not surprising; on a basic level, Arthur _is_ attractive. Merlin always thought that, even when he and Arthur hated each other. That just made it hotter, in all honestly. Some things are just facts and Arthur being the golden prince of Camelot is one of them. 

Arthur's stupid jawline would have been enough, but then Arthur had be good and noble and actually care about his people and his kingdom. Don't get him wrong, Arthur is still a complete idiot eighty per cent of the time, he can be rude and arrogant and an utter _dick_, but. 

But he's also self-sacrificing. Arthur puts everyone before himself, his people, his knights, his father, even though Uther doesn't deserve it. He stands up for what's right or at least tries to - Merlin has seen Arthur challenge Uther's decisions in-front of the court. Merlin has also seen the consequences of that, the way Arthur has to shoulder a jaded and furious Uther's barrage of harsh words.

Arthur always looks achingly young in those moments. But only when it's just him and Merlin, alone in his room following Uther's latest diatribe, where no-one else can see.

It's not surprising, his feelings for Arthur. You can't spend a year side by side with someone, without stumbling into affection and attraction and understanding. Merlin would never give the old dragon the satisfaction, but he was right about Merlin and Arthur being two sides of the same coin.

Sometimes, Merlin can almost see Arthur's soul, brilliant and golden and intrinsically, irreversibly entwined with Merlin's.

Merlin's too far gone now. He can't change his feelings for Arthur, but he also can never act on them.Not least because Merlin's entire existence in Camelot is banned.

Which is fine, because Merlin isn't the one going around kissing injured people. This is all Arthur's fault and Arthur can decide what he does next.

Which will be nothing, Merlin thinks dully. Arthur is a prince and he may be Merlin's friend, but there's no way he views Merlin the same way he views all those beautiful princesses Uther parades in-front of him. Or the occasional neighbouring prince.

Merlin knows that Arthur values him as a friend, but that's all it can ever be. 

Merlin sighs and slams his book shut. Tomorrow everything will be back to normal and Arthur can act as if nothing ever happened. 

Hopefully, an entire herd of griffons are on their way to Camelot.

-

The next morning, Merlin drops three sausages on the floor.

He's so nervous about seeing Arthur that morning that his hands shake and Arthur's breakfast tray shudders. Merlin considers just putting them back on the plate for a good second, before sighing and heading back to the kitchen. He ladles new sausages onto the tray and makes a note to slip the other sausages to Arthur's dogs later.

Merlin takes the stairs three at a time. Then he kicks the door open unceremoniously, so there is no time for his nerves to swallow him whole.

For all that excitement, Arthur doesn't even stir. Merlin can't even see Arthur under the heap of blankets. All he can see is a tuft of blond hair. 

This scenario is so familiar, so routine by now, that Merlin suddenly feels a surge of confidence. He strides to the window and throws the curtains open. "Good morning, Sire!"

The tuft of hair grunts. Merlin smiles helplessly. 

"I've brought your breakfast," Merlin says loudly. Arthur's left his boots scattered over the floor, so Merlin scoops them up and places them neatly by the cupboard. "The cook gave you extra tomatoes, but I'm going to eat them if you're not awake in five minutes."

The lump under the covers doesn't even twitch. Merlin slams the tray down onto the table. "And I'm going to eat this bacon." Merlin is momentarily distracted by how good the bacon smells. "Actually, I was only saying that to wind you up, but in all honesty I might actually eat it."

There is no movement from the bed. Merlin has a worrying thought that Arthur could be dead. "Are you dead?"

Still no movement. "You better not be dead," Merlin warns him. "The King will definitely blame me and I don't need the hassle."

Arthur finally sits up. "God, do you ever stop talking?"

"Do you ever stop sleeping?" Merlin mutters. He chances a look towards the bed. Arthur is yawning, hair ruffled and eyes half-closed. He isn't wearing a shirt. Merlin turns back to the tray and nearly spills the entire pitcher of water.

Merlin has become very good at appearing to be busy. He arranges Arthur's knife and fork four times, listening to Arthur's slow footsteps across the room. The cook has placed an apple on Arthur's tray and Merlin eyes it wistfully. 

Arthur flops down into his chair, pulling his plate towards him. "Please tell me today isn't the weekly council meeting."

Merlin gives the apple a final, longing look, before beginning to tidy the rest of Arthur's chambers. "As today is the same day of the week that the weekly council meeting is always held on, I regret to tell you today is the weekly council meeting."

"I thought so," Arthur mumbles. Out of the corner of his eye, Merlin can see Arthur tiredly rest his head on his hand. "But a man can dream."

"One of the counsellors has fallen ill, though," Merlin offers. "The one who always talks about grain."

"At least we'll be spared from the weekly grain count then," Arthur mutters. "Who knew grain could fuel such fierce debate?"

Arthur says it so drily that Merlin can't help his snort of laughter. He hangs Arthur's cloak up, before moving on to make Arthur's bed and straightening his sheets. He hums under his breath, he and Arthur content with the companionable silence as rays of sunlight spill through the windows.

"How are your bruises?" Arthur asks, as Merlin clears the table. The apple is untouched and Merlin sighs, knowing Arthur will save it for later if he hasn't eaten it by now. It's a red apple and those are Merlin's favourite.

Merlin shrugs. "Healing. My ankle hurts less, but my ribs look like someone threw a bucket of paint at them."

Merlin expects Arthur to make a sarcastic comment about Merlin's low pain threshold, but he doesn't say anything. Instead, Arthur appears lost in thought. He's holding his knife still and he's flipping it absentmindedly. Arthur gets like this sometimes, sombre and contemplative and not even Merlin can reach him.

Merlin collects the tray quietly. He's about to leave, when Arthur calls out. "Leave the tray."

Merlin frowns. "Why?"

Arthur stares at him expressionlessly. "Because I'm the prince of Camelot."

Merlin rolls his eyes and slams the tray back down. Arthur hasn't finished all of his breakfast, so he'll probably eat the rest later. Merlin personally thinks cold bacon is disgusting, but royals are a weird lot. He abandons the tray and turns to leave for the second time. He's almost at the door when Arthur calls his name. 

Merlin turns around. "Yes?"

Arthur pushes away from the table and stands up. He walks towards Merlin with slow, deliberate steps, all sleepiness gone from his eyes. He stops a few paces from Merlin, before raising his hand slowly. His movements are measured, broadcast-ed, giving Merlin plenty of time to move away.

Merlin doesn't move away.

In Arthur's hand is the red apple. Merlin's heartbeat is thundering in his ears. Arthur lifts the apple to his mouth and takes a single, sharp bite. When he swallows, his lips are glossy and wet. 

Arthur steps forward and wraps his fingers around Merlin's wrist. Merlin feels heat jolt through his stomach. The apple smells sweet and Merlin shivers as Arthur presses the apple into Merlin's hand. Merlin takes it instinctively.

Then Arthur steps back. "See you at the council meeting."

Merlin is unable to move as Arthur walks away; he feels flushed and hot, his knees trembling. He stumbles backwards, reaching for the handle and all but falling through the door.

The apple is still clutched in his hand and he can feel the juice sliding past his pulse. 

-

The start of the council meeting is dull. It always takes the counsellors forever to get to their seats and there’s a lot of meaningless pleasantries and exchanges.

Merlin stands behind Arthur’s chair, close enough to the wall so it doesn’t look like he’s leaning against it, though he really is. He has a good view of Arthur’s back muscles from here which is nice. On a purely aesthetic level.

The middle of the council meeting is equally boring. Grain counsellor is sick, but he’s provided a message for another counsellor to read out. Merlin catches Arthur’s eyes and fights down on a laugh. 

Grain counsellor wants to raise the tax on the grain. Uther is in agreement with this; Arthur is resolutely against more tax on the people. Luckily so are a handful of other counsellors, so grain counsellor will have to be disappointed.

The meeting is almost over when the hairs on the back of Merlin’s neck stand up. A knight bursts through the chamber doors, panting wildly.

Merlin flinches instinctively, face going pale. He and Gauis exchange looks. They’re both hoping this won’t be a report of some poor magic user the knights have found. Merlin’s stomach clenches in apprehension.

Uther tells the knight to rise and he nods his head respectfully before he speaks. “Sire, I come with news from the border. There are reports of a large gang of bandits.”

"What border?"

"To the west," the knight answers. "I suspect it's the same group of bandits we encountered last month - it appears they didn't disband. I fear they were only biding their time and have grown in number and strength whilst the attention has been off them."

Uther slams his fist against the table. "They will not evade us a second time. Arthur, you and your men ride out tonight."

"Sire, if I may," the knight interjects nervously. "I wasn't the only knight on patrol. Sir Thomas is a day's ride from Camelot - we deliberately staggered our return so as not to alert the bandits." 

"Clever," Arthur comments and the knight flushes with the praise. "Well done, Sir Harold."

"We will wait for Sir Thomas," Uther decides. "He may have some more information. And even if he doesn't, the extra day will give the men time to prepare."

Things happen pretty quickly after that. Arthur is sent off to brief the knights and Merlin is sent off to polish a mountain of armour. That quickly evolves into a mountain of shields and later a mountain of swords. When he's finished with all the knight's swords, he heads to Arthur's chamber. 

Merlin slips in through the door quietly. Arthur is stood around the table, pouring over a map. The rest of the knights are listening to Arthur intently as he plots a course. Sir Leon is the only one to notice Merlin and he gives him a small smile. 

Arthur’s has left his sword in its scabbard and Merlin collects it. Arthur rarely leaves his sword in the armoury, preferring to keep it close by. 

There’s a small window seat in Arthur’s chambers and Merlin folds himself into the space with the sword on his lap. The sword is a familiar weight in his lap as he sharpens the blade. The meeting goes on for a while, the hushed tones of Arthur and his knights comforting. Merlin loses himself in the rhythm of his task.

Arthur wraps the meeting up after an hour. The knights plan to leave tomorrow at noon, taking a more difficult path through the mountains in order to catch the bandits unawares. Sir Leon hangs back and he and Arthur speak together for a few moments more. Merlin slips past them and heads to the kitchen to retrieve Arthur's dinner.

When he returns, Sir Leon is gone and Arthur is changing behind the screens. Merlin places Arthur's plates down and then moves over to the fireplace. He lights the fires as Arthur emerges, dressed in a loose white shirt. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Arthur slump into his chair. 

The sudden urge to kiss him is dizzying.

Merlin wants to kiss him; wants to wrap his arms around him and pull him close. Wants to fist his hand in Arthur's hair and press his mouth to Arthur's, until Arthur no longer looks so lost. 

Merlin can't do any of that, so instead he kicks out the spare chair at the table and collapses into it. "Cheer up. You'll scare the bandits away with a face like that."

"_Good_," Arthur mutters vehemently, but Merlin can see him perk up a little.

Merlin scratches at the edge of the table with his thumbnail. "So we ride out tomorrow."

Arthur pulls his plate forward and picks up a bread roll. He breaks it in half with his hands, then reaches for the butter. "Yes. You know, I thought it was odd the rumours of bandits just stopped. I should have known better than to believe they'd disbanded."

"Well, we're used to bandits being a bit thicker," Merlin comments reasonably. "No one thought they'd be smart enough to pretend to disband, only to pop up later on. That's bordering on being _clever_."

Arthur hands Merlin the bread roll. Merlin takes it without thinking. "Hopefully not clever enough to evade our attack."

"Depends if you show up in full armour or not. Bit flashy, that." Merlin breaks off a bit of bread roll and pops it in his mouth.

Arthur rolls his eyes. "It may be flashy, Merlin, but it'll also stop you getting stabbed. A small price to play, really."

Merlin shrugs. "If you say so, I think you all just like to show off."

Arthur arches an eyebrow. Merlin stuffs some more bread in his mouth. "To show off?"

Merlin swallows. "I've seen you and the knights swaggering about the castle. Thinking you look cool."

Arthur lets out a choked noise, which could possibly be a laugh. "You're such an idiot, Merlin."

It would be a more effective insult if he didn't sound so fond, Merlin thinks. It prompts a smile from Merlin and Arthur smiles back, a little hesitant. A little worn, too, a little tired. It's a nice smile.

Arthur clears his throat. "Merlin, I - I have to prepare for tomorrow. We think the bandits have been amassing weapons from the villagers they've pillaged. There's been a spat of burglaries and disappearances we haven't connected to the bandits until now." 

Arthur looks away. "When we do confront the bandits - it's not going to be an easy fight. I have to focus on that right now."

Merlin heart lurches horribly. "I - I understand, Sire."

Arthur blinks at him. "You do? I - that's good. It's just we'll be away from Camelot for at least a day, and that's assuming we find the bandits and dispatch them quickly."

Merlin has been rejected plenty of times; none of the village girls or boys wanted anything to do with him, not with his reputation of being Hunith's weird son. And it's not like he's been inundated with offers since he's come to Camelot; being the prince's clumsy servants isn't a much better reputation. But rejection has never hurt as badly as this, like his heart is being crushed in his chest.

Because that has to be what this is. Arthur trying to let him down gently by telling him he has to focus on the upcoming fight.

Merlin suddenly finds it hard to speak, his throat tight. "I see."

Arthur looks oddly relieved. It hurts even more. "I won't be able to focus on anything else, until it's over."

Merlin nods automatically; he's aware Arthur is still talking, but he's too busy trying to stop his breathing coming out in broken gasps. "But once it's over, once we're back at Camelot we could - once there's time - "

Merlin interjects desperately before he starts crying. "Sire, Gauis is waiting for me. I need to get back to my chambers."

Arthur jolts, startled. Merlin babbles on desperately. "I still need to have some food tonight and I'll be up early to prepare the horses."

Arthur flushes, but Merlin is too upset to really register it. "Of - of course. You should get some rest. We can speak at another time."

"Right," Merlin answers, and then he all but runs from the room.

-

The next day is horrible.

Merlin managed to avoid Gauis yesterday evening, because Gauis is - literally - an old man, so was in bed when Merlin had finished bawling his eyes out in the stables and sloped back to his chambers. 

Merlin can't avoid Gauis in the morning, however. Gauis is always awake before Merlin is and Merlin has enough stress in his life, he's not going to torture himself any further by deliberately waking up at the crack of dawn to escape Gauis' Inquiring Eyebrow.

Merlin does not escape Gauis' Inquiring Eyebrow; he gets the full brunt of it over breakfast.

"I don't want to talk about it," Merlin says resolutely.

The Eyebrow inches higher. Merlin sighs. "I really don't."

"Hm," says Gauis.

Merlin cracks. He's tired and heartbroken and Gauis probably knows everything anyway. (He always does somehow.) "Fine. It's Arthur."

Gauis looks alarmed. "What happened? Is he enchanted again?"

"No!" Merlin pauses. "Well, it already half way through the month, so we are due one. But no. He's not enchanted."

Gauis nods. "Has the dragon told you something?"

"No." This is excruciating. "It's - Arthur and - me. I. Arthur and I."

"What do you - " Gauis begins, then. "Oh."

Merlin wants to perish on the spot right there.

Gauis clears his throat. "Merlin, I am - you - thank you for telling me. But I must confess, I was already aware of your and Arthur's relationship. It was quite obvious."

Merlin drops his spoon with a clatter. "What?"

Gauis pats his hand. "I am glad you finally feel ready to share this with me. I wish things were different and you could have been open about your relationship, but that is your choice alone and I - "

Merlin stares at him. "Gauis, what are you talking about?"

Gauis frowns. "You and Arthur's, uh, romantic relationship."

Merlin's jaw falls open. "Gauis, there is no romantic relationship between me and Arthur. There hasn't - there never has been. Arthur kissed me a few days ago, but before that - "

Now it's Gauis' time to stare. "You mean to say you and Arthur haven't been courting in secrets for months now?"

"No!" shouts Merlin.

There is a long pause. Gauis looks shocked. Merlin should feel offended, he's just not sure about what. Gauis finally seems to recover. "Merlin, my boy, I'm sorry. I truly thought you and Arthur had been seeing each other in secret. I assumed you weren't ready to tell me yet, and respected that as your choice."

Merlin has no idea what to say. "Why - why would you think Arthur was courting me?"

Gauis looks at him with clear eyes. "Merlin, anyone could see what you mean to that man."

Merlin swallows. Words escape him and he suddenly feels so confused, that his head hurts. Gauis reaches over and takes Merlin's hand. "You said Arthur kissed you?"

Merlin uses his free hand to scrub at his eyes. "Yes. A few days ago, when I hurt myself on the hunt. I don't think he meant anything by it, though."

Gauis hums quietly. "Why do you think that?"

Merlin shakes his head. "It was - adrenaline or something."

"And has anything else happened since then?" Gauis asks.

"No," Merlin lies.

There are lines and Merlin is not going to tell his only father figure about the Strangely Erotic and Sexually Charged Red Apple Incident.

"Hm," Gauis says.

(That's also why.)

"And now we have to go fight those bandits and I saw Arthur last night and he just - " Merlin sighs miserably. "He just kept talking about focusing on that. He was obviously letting me down gently."

Gauis squeezes Merlin's hand. "Is that all he said?"

Merlin squeezes Gauis' hand back before pulling away. "It doesn't matter anyway. He could never - we could never - I'm just happy to be his servant. Until the day I die." Gauis is looking at him searchingly and Merlin feels the words spill out. "That's all I could ever ask, Gauis, I have magic and - Uther and the law, I could never put Arthur in that position. Even if he did feel that way - which he _doesn't_."

Gauis is quiet after Merlin's outburst. Merlin looks away, cheeks burning. He clears his throat. "I need to get the horses ready."

Gauis tactfully doesn't mention that _Merlin_ isn't ready; he's still in his sleeping clothes.

"Merlin," Gauis says quietly as Merlin clears the table. "Sometimes we are too close to see the wider picture."

"Right," Merlin nods.

Worse than the bloody dragon, honestly. 

-

None of it matters later.

None of it matters when Arthur is lying there, face down and bleeding.

-

Merlin remembers the lead up to the fight in flashes. He and Arthur riding through the forest at the head of the patrol, not speaking. The rain drizzling through the trees and sliding uncomfortably under Merlin's clothes. Merlin feeling damp and unhappy and irritated. 

They stumble upon the bandits and defeat them easily enough. Too easily. Merlin glances at Arthur, the sound of swords still ringing in his ears. The knights are re-grouping, but Merlin has an uneasy feeling. He can see Arthur's brow wrinkle, stood equally as still. Their gazes meet and for a moment all the awkwardness is forgotten, with more pressing matters at hand.

Arthur calls to him across the clearing. "Are you having one of your funny feelings again?"

Merlin smirks, but there's no humour in it. "Something like that."

Arthur nods once. He turns and shouts to the knights. "Get ready!"

Within minutes, the second wave of bandits hits. Merlin knew this was too easy. The second wave of fighting is worse; the knights are tired and the bandits desperate. It's a dangerous combination. The ground, already slick with rain, is churned up from the previous fighting. 

Slowly, they turn the tide. The knights may be tired but they're well-trained. The bandits are desperate, which makes them vicious but sloppy. Merlin has just dispatched the latest attacker with a well-timed branch, when he hears Leon shout. 

Merlin turns to see Leon dodging a blow from a bandit; Leon has lost his sword but is fighting back with his shield. Arthur goes barrelling into the bandit, knocking him away from Leon. Arthur has his back to Merlin and Merlin watches helplessly as their swords clash. Arthur knocks the man over, defeating him, but not before the man slashes his sword towards Arthur's face.

Arthur crumples to the floor and Merlin's heart stops. 

For a horrifying moment, fear consumes him.

Arthur staggers to his knees. All the air rushes back into Merlin's lungs. He inhales shakily. Fights are finishing all around him but Merlin only has eyes for Arthur.

Arthur is standing by the time Merlin reaches him. He has a cut across his collarbone, which is bleeding profusely. There is blood on Arthur's hand and smeared across his cheek from where he's touched his face.

Merlin can only whisper his name. "Arthur."

Arthur's lips are trembling. His eyes are a little wild. He must be in so much _pain_.

Merlin grabs for his hand, has to suddenly feel Arthur is real, anchor himself to him with heat and blood. Arthur grasps his hand, the blood on his palm mixing with Merlin's.

It's not the first time either of them have seen the other injured. It's by no means the worse injury; Merlin did drink a poison goblet in-front of Arthur and the entire court. But something about this time is ten times worse.

All that time I've fought how I feel for Arthur, Merlin thinks wretchedly. To loose him now, after that, after they _kissed_, it's - it's unbearable.

"Sire, they're retreating!"

Leon's shout breaks the spell; time restarts, the world spins once again on its' axis. Arthur drops Merlin's hand, a slow, gentle caress as their palms part. 

"Follow them," Arthur calls. His gaze never breaks from Merlin's. "I don't want any to escape and try to regroup."

"Yes, Sire!"

"It's okay," Merlin says, and for the first time, he thinks he's telling the truth. "We can talk later."

-

The ride back is exhausting. There are injuries across the knights, but nothing fatal. Arthur's wound, whilst leaking a lot of blood, is shallow and easily bandaged. The procession back to Camelot is a weary, if grimly satisfied one. They ride for what feels like hours; wounds, though not fatal, need seeing to and infections can't be prevented soon enough. There is not enough time to spare to stop and make camp.

It is nightfall when they arrive. Merlin can see the lit flames flickering, glowing in the night sky. Arthur leaves as soon as they reach the courtyard, to speak with Uther. Merlin knows he will still be awake. If darkness hadn't fallen, Uther would demand a debrief, bruises and fatigue and mud stains regardless. Thankfully, the sun has long since left the sky and Uther will want his beauty sleep.

Merlin lets Gauis know he is safe, before heading to Arthur's chambers. His limbs are tired, his feet stumbling over the cobbles. He traces his hands along the castle walls as he walks, the stones cool and smooth.

Merlin wasn't expecting Arthur to be there before him. He's surprised to enter Arthur's chamber to find them lit by the two candles above the hearth. They flicker softly and cast a warm glow over the room. 

Arthur is laying on his side on the bed. Merlin toes off his boots. He lines them up neatly by Arthur's. He drapes his jacket over the chair. Trembling fingers unknot his scarf.

Then, Merlin walks over to the bed and lies down next to Arthur.

Arthur opens his eyes as the bed dips under Merlin's weight. Merlin settles on his side, feet tucked beneath him. His body and Arthur's mirror each other, two commas curled towards each other. 

Merlin closes his eyes. "I am so tired."

Arthur's voice is low, hoarse. "So am I."

Arthur shifts his weight. Merlin opens his eyes to look at him. Arthur's collarbone is neatly bandaged, Merlin can see the white strips of fabric below the collar of his shirt. 

"Did it hurt?"

"Yes."

“I was scared.”

“Well, you haven’t fought a lot of bandits like that before.”

”Not for me. For you.”

Arthur takes a deep breath. “Oh.”

Merlin reaches out with hesitant hands. Gently, he brushes a lock of golden hair away from Arthur’s eyes. Arthur is very still under his touch.

”I was scared,” Arthur says quietly.

”Oh?”

”For you. I’m always scared for you.”

Merlin reaches out and takes Arthur’s hand. Their joint palms lay between them, fingers tangled together. 

Gently, Merlin raises their joint hands to his lips and presses his mouth to them. His eyes feel heavy.

”You should sleep,” Arthur whispers. “You were brave today.”

”Can I sleep here?” Wishes are easy to make, here where it is safe and warm, in the space between the candlelight and Arthur’s eyes.

”Yes. I always want you here with me.” Arthur’s voice is as soft as spun sugar. 

“Good,” Merlin whispers. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So half of these scenes just came to me and were not planned. The apple 🍎 scene was not at all meant to go that way and then like? It just did it own thing lol 😂 
> 
> I hope people liked the chapter dw these idiots will actually speak about their feelings in chapter 3
> 
> i'm having a shitty time rn but this fic is so fun to write i love these idots
> 
> comments really mean everything


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter and I don't know how this became 10k. I also have no idea if this is a good ending, but I physically cannot edit this anymore lmao

Falling asleep on top of the sheets was romantic at the time, but when Merlin wakes up three hours later he’s absolutely _ freezing _.

Merlin never got under the covers, was too exhausted and too heart weary to crawl underneath, just collapsed next to Arthur and let sleep take him. Merlin wakes with a jolt, shivering violently. The tip of his nose feels like a block of ice.

Merlin sits up abruptly. He’s grasping at the covers when a voice mumbles sleepily, “What are you doing?”

Arthur’s sleepy voice. Merlin is probably going to freak out about that later, but right now he’s too tired and too cold to think about it. Arthur’s huddled into the pillows, cover pulled up to his chin and hair sticking up at the back.

“Ssh,” Merlin hushes. “ ‘m cold. Just getting under the covers.”

“ ‘kay.” 

Arthur’s blankets are so much nicer than his; thick and plush and warm. The mattress feel heavenly and Merlin makes short work of getting settled. Once he’s comfy, Merlin looks across to Arthur. 

“I’m going to sleep now,” Merlin whispers. Arthur doesn’t stir, so Merlin whispers again, a little louder this time. “Arthur, are you awake?”

Arthur grunts at him. Merlin narrows his eyes. “Arthur, I am going to sleep - ”

Arthur, without opening his eyes, smacks Merlin across the face with a pillow with perfect precision. “_Do it then_.”

Merlin grapples with the pillow and considers smothering Arthur with it. Arthur either doesn’t notice or just doesn’t care about Merlin’s murderous intentions, because he rolls over so his back is to Merlin.

Merlin decides to postpone murdering the crown prince and gives Arthur’s back the middle finger instead.

He wriggles a little, tucking his feet beneath him. Arthur’s shoulders are rising and falling as he breathes evenly. It sets his nerves at ease, Arthur sleeping quietly in front of him, safe and unharmed and peaceful. 

On impulse, Merlin gently curls his hand into the corner of Arthur’s shirt. Even though Arthur is right there, some part of Merlin needs to touch him and make sure this is all real. 

Merlin thought he was being subtle, barely brushing the fabric of Arthur’s shirt. Sleepiness must make him more heavy handed than usual, however, because Arthur flinches.

“Sorry,” Merlin says quickly, drawing his hand back. He knows his hands must be cold.

“No, it’s fine.” Arthur yawns. Merlin doesn’t answer. His overtired brain suddenly worries that he’s done something wrong. All those horrible feelings of anxiety always wait until the middle of the night to creep up on him. 

Arthur reaches behind him, his hand searching blindly until it grasps Merlin’s. He gives Merlin’s hand a squeeze, even though Merlin knows that the position must be awkward for him, his right arm thrown over his shoulder to reach Merlin’s. “Sleep time, M.”

Just this once, Merlin does what he’s told.

-

When he wakes the next morning, for a moment Merlin isn’t sure where he is. His own bed, whilst much nicer than the pallet he slept on in Ealdor, is definitely not this comfy. Or this big, or has so many pillows.

The events of last night rush to the front of his mind. Merlin’s eyes fly open of their own accord. He feels suddenly hot, the blankets an irritant rather than a comfort. 

There’s no one else in the bed.

Merlin’s eyes flit around the room wildly, only to fall upon Arthur standing by the window. His face is etched in a pensive expression; he’s leaning against the wall, so his back is to Merlin’s, hair a burnished gold in the early dawn light. 

Merlin scrabbles into a sitting position, his legs are drawn up to his chest and his back is against the headboard. The blankets are still too warm, but he grasps them desperately, pulls them over his legs in a pathetic attempt to hide behind them. 

Arthur must hear the noise, because he turns his head suddenly to look at Merlin. Merlin feels caught in that gaze, like a deer frozen in front of his hunter. 

“I - “ Merlin can’t get the words out, his throat dry. 

Before he can say anything else, Arthur is striding over to the bed. Arthur is only dressed in his sleep shirt, his legs long and tan and muscled. Merlin can’t quite look away and then Arthur’s there and he’s leaning down and he’s - 

\- kissing Merlin. 

Arthur has one hand cupped around the back of Merlin’s head, his mouth hot as he presses it to Merlin’s. Merlin parts his mouth instinctively under Arthur’s, fire burning through him, licking under his skin and setting alight wherever Arthur is touching him.

Arthur tries to pull back, but Merlin wants, wants to keep feeling this way, this feverish, this good. Arthur makes a surprised little noise, which has Merlin’s heart racing, kissing Merlin just as fiercely. Arthur's teeth capture Merlin’s bottom lip and Merlin’s head is spinning as they break apart with a slick sound. 

Arthur’s pupils are blown wide, black with a sliver of sky. His hand is still cupping Merlin’s skull, palm wide and calloused. 

Merlin blurts stupidly, “Good morning.”

It’s so stupid and Merlin’s voice changes pitch with every syllable, like he’s thirteen all over again. Merlin’s been told by numerous sources he’s socially awkward, but even he doesn’t think there’s a protocol for the seconds after you’ve kissed the crown prince.

Arthur blinks in surprise, before his mouth twists into a wry smile. “Good morning, Merlin.”

He sounds so fond, so affectionate, that Merlin knows everything is going to be okay. Merlin shoves him playfully and Arthur shoves him back. Then, because he’s an ass, Arthur makes a big deal of climbing over Merlin to get into the bed, elbowing him and kneeing Merlin in the side. Arthur is as transparent as air, and Merlin can see this desperate ploy for exactly what it is; an excuse to wrestle Merlin down beside him in the bed, lying face to face.

Merlin’s chest is heaving, batting Arthur’s hands away. Arthur is a lot fitter than Merlin, so he’s just - glowing a bit, whilst Merlin is having a private heart attack following that impromptu wrestling session. They’re both sprawled out on Arthur’s bed, legs tangled together, an echo of their position from last night.

Merlin lays on his side, head propped up on his hand. Arthur copies him, meaning Merlin has a really good view of Arthur’s biceps. 

Arthur clears his throat. Merlin is suddenly, horribly aware that he hasn’t bathed today and he has morning breath and he’s in last night’s clothes.

“Merlin,” Arthur begins. He opens his mouth, then closes it again. This happens several times and by the third time, the happy, light feeling in Merlin’s stomach has evaporated. Now there’s only uncertainty, making his stomach lurch anxiously.

“It’s okay,” Merlin mumbles finally, interrupting Arthur’s fourth impression of a goldfish.

Arthur jolts, brow creasing into a frown. “I - what?”

Merlin looks away from him, thumping his head back against the pillows. “It’s okay.”

“Good,” Arthur says automatically. “Wait - what - what’s okay?”

Merlin stares at the ceiling. He’s counted three cracks so far. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“I don’t?” Arthur sounds relieved. That hurts, in an oddly distant way. “So - you - I - you understand?”

“Yes.” Merlin’s tone sounds flat even to his ears. He’s moved onto counting cobwebs. There are a lot more cobwebs. “I understand.”

Arthur shifts beside him. There’s an edge of irritation bleeding into his tone, which is a bit rich considering that Merlin is the one being rejected. For the - the second time at least, depending on how you count it. “You don’t sound very happy about it.”

Merlin inhales at that, the hurt darting past the numbness, a sharp jab to his heart. “I’m fine.”

“He’s fine - oh for god’s sake.” Warm hands dart out and capture Merlin’s chin, curling around his jaw and forcing him to look at Arthur. Merlin’s mind unhelpfully flashes back to that hunt in the forest, Arthur’s grip just as strong and possessive now as it was then. “Merlin, will you look at me?”

“Quit it,” Merlin snaps, smacking Arthur’s hand away. Arthur doesn’t let go, ignores Merlin’s protests and turns his chin from side to side, like he’s trying to examine him.

“Quit it,” Arthur mocks, in a tone that is nothing like Merlin’s. “Merlin, do you - look. I would never - “

Merlin has no idea what is happening. If Arthur is going to reject him, he wishes he would just hurry up and do it. The sooner he does, the sooner Merlin can run to Gauis and have a good cry and get snot all over his shoulder. The sooner Merlin can rip his heart out of his chest and bury it, because that would be less painful that whatever he’s feeling right now. 

Arthur’s hands fall away. “I would never - I would never force you. If you want to leave - “

Merlin frowns abruptly. “What are you talking about?”

“What are _you_ talking about?” Arthur snaps. He looks mad now, mouth drawn into a tight line. “Honestly, Merlin, sometimes I think I don’t know you at all - “

“You don’t want to know me!” Merlin shouts. “You’ve made that abundantly clear!”

Arthur looks affronted, which only fuels Merlin’s anger. He’s going to punch Arthur if he doesn’t take that offended look off his face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

Merlin does shove Arthur then, a weak push to his shoulder. Arthur barely moves, but Merlin’s too upset to care. “I get it, okay! I’ll go - you don’t have to rub it in! I know you don’t want me here.”

Arthur gapes. “I don’t - You are the most idiotic - “

“I’m going,” Merlin hisses. It’s all too much, their heated words, the tears threatening to spill over in the corner of his eyes, his throat scratching when he tries to speak. 

“Merlin,” Arthur says loudly. “What about me kissing you twice, on the mouth, once_ in my bed_, makes you think I want you to leave?”

Merlin freezes.

The entire world freezes; time grinds to a halt. 

Merlin stares at Arthur. He’s aware his mouth is hanging open and how unattractive that must be, but he can’t force his muscles to move.

Arthur is looking at Merlin like he’s grown wings. 

“What?” Merlin squeaks.

Arthur reaches out and presses his hand to the back of Merlin’s forehead. “Are you sick? Are you still unwell from your fall the other day?”

Merlin scrambles upright. He cannot have this conversation laying down. “Arthur, what - what are you saying?”

“You may have a head injury.” Arthur sits up too, legs drawn beneath him as he reaches for Merlin’s forehead again. “Shall I call Gauis?”

“No!”

“No to the head injury or no to Gauis?”

“No to all of it!” Merlin yelps. “That’s not what I meant. What I meant was - Arthur, Arthur how do you feel?”

Arthur frowns. “I don’t have a head injury either.”

“No,” Merlin urges. “How do you feel about me?”

The air grows taught between, like an arrow on a bow string. Arthur’s eyes widen in shock. A blush of light pink dusts over his cheeks. Arthur swallows, and for a moment Merlin thinks he won’t answer. But Arthur Pendragon has always been brave, has a heart borne of courage, and he doesn’t back down now.

Arthur wets his lips. “I - I care for you a great deal. I think I always knew it, I just didn’t - couldn’t admit how much until that day you - when you were lying there. And then I didn’t want to wait any longer after that. Life is too short to hide how we truly feel from those we l- from those we care for.”

Merlin cannot breathe. 

Arthur fidgets uncomfortably, before clearly making a decision to stand his ground. He sets his shoulders stubbornly, raising his chin and looking Merlin in the eye. 

“Feel free to respond at any point, Merlin,” he says through gritted teeth. 

Merlin exhales. “That’s - that’s why you kissed me?”

Arthur arches an eyebrow. “Obviously.” When Merlin doesn’t continue, Arthur rolls his eyes. “Why else would I kiss you?”

Merlin blames how dazed he feels on what comes out of his mouth next. “Well, you do kiss a lot of people.”

It is immediately obvious this was the wrong thing to say. 

“I beg your pardon?” Arthur asks, voice dangerously soft. Like the fur of a panther before it bites your head off.

Merlin bites his lip. “I just meant - “

“Are you calling me a trollop?” Merlin didn’t know if was physically possible for Arthur to go that shade of purple. “Because I am _not_.”

“You kiss a lot of princesses!” Merlin says defensively, holding his hands wide in a feeble attempt to fend off the murder in Arthur’s eyes. “You do!”

“I do not!” 

“Okay,” Merlin relents. “Maybe you don’t kiss them, but you’re always - holding their hands and taking them on picnics - “

“Because I’m a prince!” 

Arthur sounds genuinely upset now, his mouth tight and his eyes unhappy. Merlin is the one who’s made Arthur feel like that, has explained his insecurities in such a way that makes Arthur feel to blame. “Arthur, I don’t mean it like that - “

“Well, how do you mean it?”

Merlin ducks his head. “I didn’t mean to - I’m not making judgements about your character, I promise. I’m sorry it came across that way. I meant - I didn’t - “ Merlin screws up all his courage. “I just can’t understand why you would want to kiss - me. If you could have princesses. Or princes. If you wanted.”

His cheeks burn; Merlin doesn’t think he’s ever been so honest, so open with another. He might as well have taken out his heart and placed it in Arthur’s hand, trusting him to treat it tenderly. 

“I know - I know you care for me,” Merlin admits, because he does. “I would - would die for you. I have, almost anyway. And the same is true of you. I just never - imagined it could be. In a romantic way.” 

His heart beat is thundering in his ears; there’s a heady rush of exhilaration that comes with telling the truth. Merlin laughs, a little hysterical. He might as well just say everything, truly lay his soul bare. “And maybe I did know - I’m not stupid, I knew how your actions appeared - I could imagine what they meant, I just couldn’t believe it. Because if I believed you did feel that way and it turned out to be a mistake I - “

Merlin swallows. “I couldn’t bear that.”

Merlin hides his face in his hands. He can’t bare to look at Arthur right now, his words ringing in his ears.

“Merlin.” The mattress dips, then strong hands wrap around Merlin’s wrists. “Merlin, look at me.”

Merlin shakes his head. Arthur laughs; Merlin can feel his breath wash over Merlin’s knuckles, so Arthur must be knelt right in front of him. “Why not?”

Arthur could easily pull Merlin’s hands away, force him to uncover his face, but he doesn’t. He just kneels there. His hands are still wrapped around Merlin’s wrist, his thumb rubbing soft circles on Merlin’s skin. It sends shivers up Merlin’s spine.

“I don’t know why you’re hiding your face,” Arthur comments, as if they’re talking about the weather. Or like, something even duller. Like who’s on guard duty. (It’s Leon, it’s always Leon.) “If anyone should be embarrassed, it should be me. I’m the one who was called a harlot.”

“I didn’t call you that,” Merlin mutters, voice muffled. He still has his eyes squeezed shut. He knows he’s being silly, but everything feels raw and untested and changed. He still can’t quite believe it all.

“Hm.” Arthur hums in contemplation. “I think you did, sweetheart. But I’m willing to be a gracious ruler - “

Merlin snorts. Arthur lets go of Merlin’s left wrist to dig him in the side. 

“Like I said, I’m willing to be a gracious ruler,” Arthur continues, ignoring Merlin’s whine of laughter. “And ignore such imprudence, if you show me your face.”

Merlin sighs. It’s a good one, he’s been learning from Gaius. He drops his hands away, blinking at Arthur. 

Arthur smiles. It’s a little wry and a little hopeful; Merlin wants to remember how Arthur looks at this moment, right now, forever. Arthur leans forward, resting his forehead against Merlin’s, achingly gentle.

“I guess we’re both idiots then,” Merlin murmurs. 

“Speak for yourself,” Arthur whispers, and then there is no more talking. 

-

They kiss for what feels like hours, lips swollen and slick, moaning into each other’s mouths. Arthur’s hands are a brand on Merlin’s waist, Merlin’s hand fisted in Arthur’s hair. Merlin clutches at Arthur’s shoulders as Arthur sucks a bruise into his neck, hot and biting and hard.

They eventually do have to get up and get ready; they woke just before the dawn and the castle is well on its way to preparing for the day. Merlin slips away to retrieve Arthur’s breakfast, meaning Arthur is actually dressed when he returns.

That’s disappointing. It’s less disappointing when Arthur, sat in his chair, completely ignores his breakfast in favour of pulling Merlin into his lap.

“I’m too heavy,” Merlin complains. Arthur chivalrously doesn’t mention how Merlin’s words directly contradicts his actions. Merlin settles contentedly on Arthur’s lap, hooking his hands around his shoulders.

Arthur snorts. “There’s nothing to you, Merlin. I’ve seen corpses with more muscle on them.”

“That’s princely,” Merlin comments tartly. “Besides, we don’t all get banquets prepared for us three times a day.”

Arthur scowls at him. “Are you calling me fat again?”

“How you choose to interpret that observation is up to you.”

Arthur rolls his eyes. “You’re on true form today, Merlin. First I’m a slut, then I’m overweight - “

Merlin bursts into laughter, clasping a hand over Arthur’s mouth. “I did not call you a slut! I already apologised for that!”

Arthur laughs, shoving Merlin’s hand off. “Just a regular day in the five kingdoms, suffering at the hands of my servant - “

“Shut up, Arthur.” Merlin drops his hands to Arthur’s thighs, leaning in and catching his mouth in a quick kiss. “You wouldn’t last five minutes without me.”

“Maybe so.” Arthur ruffles Merlin’s hair obnoxiously. Merlin resists the urge to turn into it like a pleased cat. “Life would certainly be less interesting. Less spillages, bumps, fewer accidental fires - “

“That happened twice and the first time Gaius admitted he’d made a mistake with the tincture!” Merlin presses a hand to Arthur’s chest, fingering the edge of Arthur’s bandages. “We should get Gaius to reapply your bandages.”

Arthur nods slowly. “We should.” Arthur glances up at Merlin through his lashes. “Do you - do you think he knows?”

Merlin sighs. “Arthur, Gaius knows everything.”

Arthur goes pale. “Good point.”

Merlin fiddles with one of the bandages, running his fingers over the smooth skin of Arthur’s collarbone. “I may have - I did also ask his advice about. Some things.”

Arthur blanches. “Some things?”

Merlin considers continuing that thread of conversation, just to see how disgusted he can make Arthur, but decides not to as Gaius is the closest thing to a father figure he has. “Not like that! I just spoke to him after you kissed me the first time.”

Arthur gapes at him.”You told him about the kiss?”

Merlin rolls his eyes. “No, I just spoke to him about trying to understand why you did what you did.”

“Because I care for you beyond measure,” Arthur says, completely flat and with no emotion whatsoever.

Merlin isn’t buying that tone for a second. He knows, now, he knows.

“I didn’t know that at the time.” Merlin waves his hand to express his point. “I wasn’t sure if it was one of those - ‘you just nearly died, I’m so glad you’re alive’ kisses.”

Arthur is watching him strangely. His arms tighten around Merlin, hands sliding under Merlin’s shirt to his bare skin. “Hang on, both of us have nearly died on several occasions.”

Merlin raises an eyebrow. “So?”

“So I don’t go around kissing the first person I see when I regain consciousness,” Arthur huffs. “Have you?”

Merlin rolls his eyes. “Yes, me and Leon like a bit of tongue after someone tries to run me through.”

Arthur leans back, apparently satisfied with that answer. “See, I know that’s not true. You should have picked Gwaine, Leon would never, He’s too noble to be emotionally compromised.”

Merlin eyes him curiously. “You’re really close, aren’t you?”

“Who, me and Leon? I suppose so.” Arthur presses his thumbs to the curves of Merlin’s back. “You’re so skinny, Merlin.”

Merlin ignores Arthur, deep in thought. Arthur and Leon are close; Merlin knows they’ve known each other most of their lives. Leon is older than Arthur, but only by a few years. Gaius has told him that Arthur used to follow Leon around when he was training to be a knight. It’s comforting to know there’s someone else who cares for Arthur and Camelot as much as Merlin does. Not to mention Leon is a knight, so on the rare occasions Merlin can’t be by Arthur’s side, Leon often is.

“I would tell him.” 

Merlin looks up at the abrupt comment. Arthur is looking uncomfortable, but resolute. Merlin threads a gentle hand into Arthur’s hair, pushing it away from his forehead. “Tell him what?”

Arthur eye’s flutter shut briefly, leaning into Merlin’s touch. When he opens his eyes, his gaze is clear and focused. “About us.”

Merlin takes in a sharp breath. “You would?”

Arthur nods once. “It’s not like men - lying with other men is outlawed. Or even that unusual. Leon wouldn’t care, most people don’t, but my father - “

Merlin looks away. “I know.”

“I’m expected to provide an heir and marry for allegiance and political gain,” Arthur recites dully, like it’s an instruction he’s been given many times. “I don’t care a whit for that, of course, plenty of rulers have wards as their heirs. But my father - he doesn’t see it like that.”

“I know,” Merlin repeats, There isn’t much more to say.

“Merlin.” Arthur’s voice is serious. “I have to tell you this, because if my father found out what you meant to me, he would try to hurt you. We have to be careful, do you understand?”

Merlin does understand, more than Arthur could ever know. He already hides the very point of his existence from the king, he’s used to secrecy. “I understand.”

“When I am king it will be different.” Arthur’s gaze is piercing. “Many things will be different.”

Merlin doesn’t have the words, so he just nods again and slides off Arthur’s lap. Arthur doesn’t try to stop him, but Merlin catches the way his fingers twitch, like he wanted to reach for Merlin.

Merlin moves over to the table, pouring Arthur a cup and taking his plate off the tray. “You better have some breakfast then. You can’t prepare for the greatest kingdom Albion has ever known on an empty stomach.”

“How wise you are.” Arthur’s tone is teasing, but Merlin can tell he’s a little uncertain about whether Merlin is angry at him.

Merlin isn’t angry at him. He’s angry at Uther, and his greed, and his hatred. He’s furious and disgusted and horrified, by the innocent people slaughtered because of one man’s tyranny. 

But Arthur isn’t Uther. And Merlin truly does believe things will change when Arthur is finally king.

Merlin isn’t angry at Arthur, so he makes sure to brush his knuckles against Arthur’s cheek as he passes. 

“There’s a banquet tonight,” Merlin comments, straightening the sheets on the bed. He flushes at how rumpled they are and tidies up the bed quickly. “The cook is serving that ale you like.”

“Nice,” Arthur says appreciatively. “I’ll be sure to let Gwaine know, he’ll surely be in high spirits.”

Merlin pulls a face, folding Arthur’s clothing. “I don’t know how you drink that stuff, I hate ale.”

“Really?”

“Mh hm,” Merlin nods distractedly, trying to find a second sock that’s gone missing. “It’s vile. Do you know where your other sock has gone?” Merlin spots it. “Don’t worry, I found it.”

He finishes cleaning Arthur’s chambers around the same time Arthur finishes his breakfast. Arthur has saved Merlin some bread and some bacon, which Merlin takes gratefully. He perches on the table between Arthur’s legs, as he eats it. Merlin swings his legs, pretending to kick Arthur’s knee and laughing when Arthur grabs his foot instead.

Merlin licks the last bit of bacon grease off his fingers. “I have to go find Gaius. I’m helping him today with the flu in the lower town.”

Arthur wraps his hands around Merlin’s calves. “I know. Gaius mentioned there had been a breakthrough?”

Merlin shrugs. “A little one.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“I’ll see you at lunch?”

“I look forward to it.”

There’s an awkward pause then. They’re both new to this; Merlin knows how to be Arthur’s friend, his confidant, his manservant. He’s not sure if being Arthur’s person he likes to kiss and cares for deeply, changes any of that.

Gaius always says not to borrow trouble, so Merlin takes that advice (for once), and presses a quick kiss to Arthur’s lips, before wiggling off the table. “See you later. Don’t dent your armour again whilst running drills, I just buffed all the scratches out.”

“I would never,” Arthur lies. Merlin gives him A Look and he can hear Arthur laughing about it all the way down the corridor.

-

Merlin slips into Gaius’ rooms, opening the door quietly in the hopes that Gaius may still be asleep. 

To the surprise of no one, Gaius is very much awake and very much giving Merlin the eyebrow. 

“Good morning, Gaius,” Merlin greets cheerily. He’s decided to bypass embarrassment completely and just take whatever lecture Gaius is going to give him. At this point, sleeping with the prince is in no way the worst thing Merlin has ever done. It’s not even in the top ten. 

“Good morning, Merlin.” Gaius sounds deeply suspicious. Merlin gives him a sunny smile but the suspicion only deepens.

“Arthur’s bandages need redoing,” Merlin says quickly.

Gaius looks at him. “I’m sure they do.”

Point one to Gaius.

Merlin tries to keep a straight face, but he can’t do it. He rushes to the breakfast table, dropping down in his usual chair and grinning at Gaius widely. Gaius sighs, but Merlin can tell he’s dethawing. 

“Did you get the answers you were looking for?” Gaius asks finally. “To that hypothetical question you had a couple days ago?”

Merlin nods. “I did.”

Gaius pushes a bowl towards him. Merlin thinks about telling him he had breakfast with Arthur, but Gaius may actually have an apoplectic fit if he does that, so he just eats the porridge. 

Whilst Merlin is pushing his porridge to make it look like he’s eaten more than he has, Gaius watches him seriously. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Merlin.”

Merlin drops his spoon. “Of course I don’t, Gaius. I know this is a terrible idea, okay? But you didn’t see him yesterday, I thought the sword had caught his throat, I was terrified.”

Gaius looks a little more sympathetic. “That must have been very frightening for you.”

“It was.” Merlin clears his throat. “And all I could think was that if he’d died and I hadn’t told him how I felt, I would never have forgiven myself. I can’t pretend that part of me doesn’t feel like that. Not when - not when he feels the same way.”

Gaius pats his hand. “All I ask is that you’re careful. Even more careful than you are now, which isn’t a big ask, considering you lack even a modicum of subtlety. I will be having words with Arthur, of course.”

Merlin blinks. “You will?”

Gaius nods gravely. “I will.”

Merlin is going to cry with laughter. “Can I watch?”

“No,” Gaius scolds, which only makes Merlin laugh harder. “And I know you’re not eating that porridge.” 

Merlin laughs all the way to the lower town, until Gaius elbows him in the stomach and reminds him people are gravely ill. 

-

Arthur is courting Merlin.

Merlin has accepted that is what this is, even if it is in secret and only one other person knows and also really illegal, (though Arthur doesn’t know that yet). 

In many ways, it changes nothing between them. In other ways, it changes absolutely everything and makes Merlin happier than he’s ever been,

Merlin is still Arthur’s manservant, still cleans his chambers and polishes his armour and collects his meals from the kitchens. Merlin sleeps in his own chambers. He helps Gaius with his rounds and writes letters to his mother.

But, after his chores are done, Arthur will pull Merlin into his arms and kiss him until he can’t think. It’s a good thing Merlin already wears scarves, because Arthur likes to leave marks, likes to bite down on this sensitive part just below Merlin’s jaw, until Merlin is squirming beneath him.

Arthur is softer with him in private, gentle and tentative. Arthur isn’t good at expressing his emotions, gets flushed and unsure and bites off sentences when they’re half finished. It’s okay, because Merlin isn’t good at this either. It’s not like he has a lot of experience and a lifetime of hiding who he is makes him a pretty closed book.

They’re figuring it out together and they both care too much to not try.

Merlin is sat on his bed one day, flicking through some books when he hears the door to Gauis’ chambers open. There’s a short conversation which Merlin can’t hear properly, then the sound of footsteps.

When he glances up, Arthur is stood in the doorway, one eyebrow arched. “I’m surprised to find you here, Merlin.”

Merlin looks at him in confusion, glancing behind Arthur, acutely aware the door is still open and Gaius is in the main room. “I told you I was doing research for Gaius today.”

“I know,” Arthur says, strolling into Merlin’s room like he owns it. Merlin supposes he does. “But sometimes when you tell me you’re helping Gaius, you’re actually in the tavern.”

“I hate the tavern,” Merlin mutters, snapping his book shut and picking up the next one.

Arthur settles down next to him on the edge of the bed. He hooks an ankle around Merlin’s, leaning in to look at the book he’s gotten open. “What are you doing?”

Merlin abruptly realises he’s reading a book about magical creatures and has the page open on a creature that he most definitely can’t pass off as a puppy. “You’ve heard about the attacks by the river?” he begins cautiously.

Arthur nods. “Yes, of course. Three men gone with no trace.”

Merlin shuffles uncomfortably. Arthur takes another glance at the book and when he speaks next, there’s a shift in his tone. “I wasn’t aware the deaths were connected to the use of magic.”

Merlin says nothing. Arthur takes a breath. “Which means my father hasn’t been made aware, either.”

Merlin swallows. “We’re not certain yet that it is magical.”

We’re not certain, Merlin thinks, but Uther doesn’t need to be certain. If Uther even gets the slightest suspicion of magic, he’ll destroy every magical creature in the vicinity. Far better to wait until he and Gaius have more evidence, before letting Uther’s paranoia take over.

If it is magic, far better that Gaius and Merlin deal with it before it ever comes to Uther’s attention..

“We’re just exploring every avenue,” Merlin says finally. “There’s no need for the kingdom to panic, when there may be a normal explanation.” Merlin casts around for a normal explanation. He’s not very good at them. “Riptides in the river, maybe.”

Arthur doesn’t say anything. He reaches for the book, though, and Merlin feels a flare of panic in his stomach. Arthur points at the page. “What is a kelpie?”

“They look like horses,” Merlin explains slowly. The sick feeling in his stomach intensifies. He doesn’t know why Arthur is asking about this. “But they’re not. If you ride them then they’ll drag you down to the depths. They don’t live around here, though, so I don’t think it can be that.”

Merlin snaps the book shut. He doesn’t want to talk about this, doesn’t want to talk about magic with Arthur. 

“What about the unicorn?”

Merlin flinches. “What?”

He’s deliberately avoiding Arthur’s gaze, so he can’t see what Arthur’s face is doing. “The unicorn,” Arthur repeats. “The unicorn didn’t want to eat anyone.”

Merlin does look up at that, completely bewildered at where this conversation is going. Arthur doesn’t look angry or annoyed. He looks - calm, if anything. Inquisitive. 

“Unicorns don’t eat people,” Merlin replies slowly. 

Arthur is still wearing that infuriatingly patient expression. “No?”

“No,” Merlin grits out. “Unicorns don’t eat people.”

“You’ve said,” Arthur says affably. “What about the kelpie?”

“What about the kelpie?” Merlin snaps.

“Why does the kelpie eat people but the unicorn doesn’t?”

“I don’t know. They’re just - creatures. The same way a wolf would eat you, but your dog wouldn’t. People should just - leave them alone and take care. The same way you would with a wolf, if you went camping in the woods. They’ve been here longer than we have.”

Merlin should probably stop defending the magical creatures now. He snaps his mouth shut, staring resolutely at his boots. After a moment, he gathers all the books up and shoves them onto the bedside table.

“It’s probably not even a kelpie,” Merlin babbles. “It’s probably just a regular murderer, going around drowning people, so that’s all fine. Anyway, how was your day, did you beat Gwaine at jousting practice?”

“I always beat Gwaine at jousting practice,” Arthur answers absentmindedly. He looks like he’s thinking hard, but he blinks after a moment and the cloud over his eyes clear. 

Merlin kicks his boots off. He’s sitting right on the edge of the bed and when he glances over to Arthur, Arthur’s looking at him with soft eyes. “I missed you today.” 

Merlin flushes. For someone so emotionally inept, Arthur can be sweetly honest at times. 

“Come here?” Arthur asks gently. 

Merlin goes to him willinging. Even with their confusing conversation, he feels safest in Arthur’s arms. Arthur pulls them down onto the bed, arms around Merlin and Merlin resting on Arthur’s chest. 

Arthur settles back against the pillows, holding Merlin tightly. Merlin feels the rise and fall of Arthur’s chest, listens to the steady beat of Arthur’s heart. Arthur rubs a palm over Merlin’s back, up to his shoulder blades and down to his hips, a steady, comforting rhythm. 

Merlin tucks his face into Arthur’s neck and closes his eyes. 

Arthur makes a questioning noise at the back of his throat. “Are you asleep?”

“I won’t be if you keep talking to me,” Merlin grumbles.

A quiet laugh. “Don’t fall asleep. We don’t have long before I need to get ready for dinner and you’re grumpy when you only get to nap for a few minutes.”

Merlin makes an indignant noise. “I am not grumpy.”

“How would you know?” Arthur’s chest is shaking in silent laughter. Merlin does not appreciate it. “Merlin. You’ll pout all through dinner and I’ll have to see it.”

Merlin digs an elbow into Arthur’s side, smirking when he hears a small ‘oof.’ “Silence, pillow.”

Arthur sighs, ruffling Merlin’s hair with the force of it “Merlin, if you fall asleep, I will wake you up by pushing you off this bed.”

Merlin scoffs, keeping his eyes firmly shut. Arthur wouldn’t dare. 

Merlin is proved wrong five seconds later.

When Arthur grabs him around the waist and begins to haul him towards the edge of the bed Merlin shrieks loudly, wriggling in an attempt to get him off. “Arthur, get off - don’t you dare - “

“I warned you,” Arthur grins, avoiding jabs from Merlin’s elbows and hauling him dangerously close to the floor. “This is your own fault, Merlin - “

“This isn’t fair, you weigh more than me!” Merlin yelps, breathless with laughter, “No, Arthur, don’t - “

“What are you doing?”

The sudden arrival of Gaius startles Arthur so much that he lets go of Merlin. Unfortunately, Merlin is more off the bed than on at that point, meaning Merlin hits the ground with a thud.

Merlin looks up at Gaius from the floor. “Uh, sorry, Gaius. I was just - napping.”

“Napping,” Gaius repeats.

Merlin squints at him. “Um, yes?”

Merlin chances a look at Arthur. He’s gone bright red and is frantically patting his hair down. Merlin pushes himself up, wincing at his banged elbow. 

Gaius pinches the bridge of his nose. “Your room has a door, Merlin. If you are going to engage in tomfoolery, please use it.”

Gaius leaves then, shutting the door pointedly behind him. 

“Well,” Merlin says from the floor. “At least we know what to do now, if we get the urge for some tomfoolery.”

Merlin stands up on wobbly legs, flinching at he puts weight on his ankles. “I can’t believe you dropped me!”

Arthur is still looking mortified, pulling his shirt straight. Merlin laughs at his alarmed expression, standing between Arthur’s legs. “You’ve gone so red.”

Arthur scowls at him,. Arthur is rubbish at pretending to be cross with him, mostly because Merlin knows exactly what Arthur looks like when he’s in a snit. Also because Arthur’s hands are now holding the back of Merlin’s thighs. “Gaius just walked in on us.”

Merlin snorts. “Walked in on what? You bullying your boyfriend by threatening to push him off the bed. How scandalous. My arse really hurts, by the way, and my elbow.”

Arthur still looks traumatised. “Gaius is like my - like my grandfather.”

Merlin makes no attempt to hide how funny he thinks this all is. “Well, good thing he didn’t walk in on us last week, then, when you had your tongue - “

“Merlin!” Arthur interrupts, scandalised, and Merlin breaks into laughter. “What is wrong with you? Why would you even say that?

Merlin rests a hand on Arthur’s shoulder, the other pinching at his cheek. “Come on, no time for tomfoolery. It’s almost dinner.”

Arthur joins their hands together, pulling Merlin down for a kiss. “There’s a little time. And the door is closed.”

Merlin hums against Arthur’s lips, before pulling away. He steps out of Arthur’s reach, grinning when Arthur whines. “No. If there’s no time for me to nap, there’s no time for you to stick your tongue down my throat. Also, you dropped me.”

Arthur narrows his eyes. “Why do I get the feeling that I'm going to regret that?”

Merlin grins. “Because you’re not as dumb as you look?”

-

Another man goes missing by the river.

This time they really can’t keep it from Uther. If it was a peasant perhaps they could get away with it, but it’s a noblemen twice removed, three times separated, somehow distantly related to someone in court, so it comes to Uther’s attention. 

Honestly, if the noblemen weren’t all interrelated, Merlin could have avoided all this drama.

Instead, he’s stuck in a war room, surrounded by Arthur and the knights, planning their attack.

“The men have gone missing from separate parts of the river,” Leon is explaining. There’s a map rolled out onto the table. “There doesn’t seem to be a pattern in location, but we do know that all the disappearances happened at night.”

Arthur looks thoughtful, tracing a route with his finger. “And the rest were all commoners, but the latest was a nobleman?”

Leon nods. “That’s right, Sire.”

“Good,” Gwaine says. “Could do with getting rid of some more of them.”

“Gwaine,” Merlin asks, staring at him. “What are you doing with that tissue?”

Gwaine is sitting with his head tilted back and a tissue shoved up his nostril. He spreads his hands wide. “I got into a fight.”

Arthur clears his throat. “If we could get back to the matter at hand - “

“You got into a fight? With who?” Percival interjects. 

“I can’t say,” Gwaine answers, which means he’s trying to be mysterious but really he got beaten up by someone embarrassing. “And now my nose is bleeding.”

Merlin rolls his eyes. “Tip your head forward, then.”

Gwaine frowns. “Why?”

Merlin sighs. “So you don’t choke on your own blood.”

“Is that true?” Gwaine asks suspiciously. “I’ve never done that - “

“Yes, it’s true.”

“Well, I - “

“Gwaine, just do what Merlin says,” Arthur interrupts. “Considering he’s apprentice to the chief physician, I think he knows more about it than you do. Now, if I could bring everyone’s attention back to the four murdered men - “

The conversation moves on, but Merlin is frozen, looking at Arthur with wide eyes. He’s pretty certain Arthur just paid him a compliment. 

The meeting wraps up quickly after that. They are riding out tonight, each knight to a different spot along the river. It’s mainly for surveillance if anything. Arthur had wanted more time to find out what they could about the attacks, but Uther had been insistent they head out that evening.

Arthur says nothing about it during the meeting with the knights, but he does grumble to Merlin about when they’re in the privacy of Arthur’s chambers.

“It makes no sense to head out together tonight,” Arthur is saying in frustration. He’s sat at the table, pouring over the map again, one leg on the floor and another pulled to his chest. He’s resting his chin on his knee.

Merlin is sat by the window seat, sharpening Arthur’s sword.

“We need more time,” Arthur scowls. “If this is a man committing these murders, he’s going to know that suspicions are raised the moment an army of knights descend upon the riverbank. What is he going to think, it’s the annual riverside tea party?”

Merlin snorts. “We’ll just have to be discreet. That’s why you said we’d go plainclothes, without armour. And maybe people do go for nightly strolls along the riverbank - those four men were doing something. Besides, the riverbank is several miles long, if it is just one man, then he won’t be able to bump into all of us.”

“My father,” Arthur begins and Merlin goes still. Arthur cuts off whatever he was going to say, though. “I guess we’ll just have to see what happens. Maybe it won’t be a man, maybe it will be a creature of magic.”

Merlin continues to sharpen Arthur’s sword. “Maybe.”

After a half hour or so, Arthur rises from the table, rubbing his eyes. “I can’t look at this map any longer.”

Arthur pushes his chair back. He stretches, before wandering over to Merlin. He bends down to kiss him and Merlin automatically tilts his head up to meet him halfway. Arthur cups his cheek to steady him, kissing him deeply. He gives Merlin another quick kiss before walking away and over to the cupboard. “Who shall I pair Gwaine with on patrol?”

“Percival,” Merlin answers immediately. “Or me. Leon’s going to give him another nose bleed if Gwaine doesn’t stop going on about his current one.”

“I’ll pair him with Percival,” Arthur decides. “Have you seen my blue cloak?”

“I have to see Gaius,” Merlin says quickly, and exits before he can lie to Arthur about how his favourite blue cloak was definitely not destroyed by a troll last month.

Gaius is waiting for Merlin when he pops by. Merlin eats some warm soup, whilst Gaius and he talk through all their research.

“The kelpie fits all the descriptions, Merlin,” Gaius warns. “Though I agree it would be unusual for one to be this far south.”

“Maybe that’s why it’s eating people, it’s homesick,” Merlin suggests. “I really don’t think it’s a kelpie, Gaius. I think it’s a genuine murderer.”

“Try not to look so pleased about that.”

“It’s never a genuine murderer!” Merlin protests. “It’s always a troll or a fairy or a - a griffon. For once, I would just like it to be a regular man, going around and murdering people. Because then we just have to stop him and don’t have to worry about a spell, or a curse, or some mysterious object.”

“Would you like to know the spell to stop the kelpie?”

Merlin sighs. “Fine.”

Gaius makes him practise the spell three times before he’s satisfied. “The kelpie shouldn’t attack you, as it should recognise you as creature of magic. The incantation should cure the kelpie of its urges to eat human flesh.”

“There are one too many ‘shoulds’ in that sentence, Gaius,” Merlin complains.

Gaius shrugs apologetically. “I’m afraid it’s all I’ve got.”

Merlin shakes his head. “I suppose I’ll just have to wing it. A bit out of character, as you know, but there we go.” Gaius is looking at him pensively and Merlin raises an eyebrow. “What? What is it?”

Gaius peers at him over his glasses. “And Arthur? How will you stop him from seeing you charming the kelpie? I assume he’ll be by your side as usual.”

Merlin bites his lip. “I’ll do what I usually do. Make something up as I go along. Knock him out with a log, maybe.”

Gaius hesitates, before saying haltingly. “Have you - have you thought of telling him about your magic?”

Merlin gasps. “Gaius! No, of course not. I can’t.”

“I just wondered how far along in your relationship you were,” Gaius explains. “You - you obviously care for each other deeply. I know I have always told you to keep your magic secret from everyone and you should do. But Arthur is not everyone.”

Merlin’s chest feels tights. “I know Arthur cares for me and I don’t - “ He takes a shuddering breath. It’s a scenario that’s plagued many of his nightmares. “I don’t believe he would hurt me.”

He wouldn’t, Merlin thinks. It would be exile, banishment. He would never see Arthur again and Arthur would never forgive him for the betrayal. Not now, not with Uther spreading his fear and propaganda around the kingdom like pestilence.

“I’m not saying now, Merlin.” Gaius grasps his shoulder. “I’m not even saying this year. But I hope that one day, Arthur’s love for you will mean you can be honest with him about who you are. Arthur is not his father.”

“Thank god, because that would be awkward,” Merlin jokes weakly. It falls flat; Gaius can see right through him as usual. “One day, I will tell Arthur exactly who I am. But not today.”

Gaius pulls him into a tight hug. “Be careful, Merlin.”

Tears threaten to spill over his cheeks. “When am I not?”

-

Gaius’ words run through his mind all the way to the riverbank, going round and round in his head. It makes Merlin quiet, taciturn as he gets lost in his thoughts. Arthur notices his sombre mood, but he must attribute it to the mission ahead, because he doesn’t pry.

In the end, it’s quite easy to get rid of Arthur, because their part of the riverbank ends up splitting into two smaller branches. Arthur goes east and agrees to join back up in half an hour.

Merlin goes west and finds the kelpie.

Merlin takes one look at the kelpie and swears. “You’re got to be fucking kidding me.”

The kelpie jerks its head up at the noise. It looks like a big, black horse, but on closer inspection it doesn’t have a mane, but thick locks of emerald seaweed. It doesn’t have hooves either, but webbed feet, like a frog. 

It’s sort of cute, actually, in a weird way.

The kelpie, apparently, does not appreciate being sworn at. It responds to swearing by charging at Merlin at high speed and trying to bite his hand off.

“Hey,” Merlin shouts, dodging the kelpie’s teeth. “_No_, I am a creature of magic!”

The kelpie pulls to a halt, eyeing him suspiciously. It tosses its mane, stamping its feet as if to say_ I don’t believe you._

“I am,” Merlin insists. “Do not - no! No biting! Let me show you some magic, hang on.” 

Merlin conjures a ball of light, the first thing he can think of. The kelpie snorts at this. It does not look happy, but it does stop trying to kill him, which is nice.

“Right,” Merlin says, a lot more calmly than he feels. Having a giant horse charge at you is terrifying, never mind one that can’t decide if it wants to be a frog or not. “I need you to stand still for a moment, okay?”

Kelpies aren’t that different from other horses in that they’re capricious as hell and do everything on their own terms. Merlin chases the kelpie through the river for five minutes, before it suddenly stops for no discernible reason and decides it likes Merlin now.

It knocks its huge head into Merlin’s chest. Merlin stumbles backwards, patting its head awkwardly. “Okay, thanks for that. It’s time for the spell now, okay? Please don’t - no moving. Right.”

The kelpie lips at his sleeve. Merlin has a suspicious feeling it’s pretending it’s not going to bite him. “I know what you’re doing.”

The kelpie snorts, but it bumps its head against Merlin’s chest again and stops lipping at his shirt. The kelpie’s skin is wet and Merlin’s shirt is damp and sticking to his skin by now.

“Here goes nothing,” Merlin mumbles. He recites the spell quickly, but clearly. For a moment, nothing happens and he’s worried it’s not worked. It’s a good start that the kelpie can’t eat him, but he really can’t leave the kelpie around to hurt other people. 

Then the kelpie gives a huge sneeze. Its entire body shakes and Merlin watches as it glows for a second, surrounded by gold light. 

“Did it work?” Merlin asks anxiously. 

The kelpie gives another full body shake. It whinnies lowly, looking at Merlin with big, mournful eyes. 

Merlin taps it on the nose gently. “Hey. Do you feel like eating any people?”

It’s not trying to eat him, but that doesn’t mean anything. It does look a bit nauseous, head hanging low and looking all sorry for itself.

“Horses can’t talk, Merlin,” he reminds himself. “Shall I give you some fish?”

The kelpie’s ears suddenly prick up. “Yeah? Does that sound good?”

The kelpie’s nostrils flair and it prances on the spot. Merlin eyes it warily. “Is this good? Is that kelpie for yes?”

The kelpie whinnies and then, without warning, bolts past Merlin. It slams into Merlin’s shoulder as it gallops past. Merlin cries out in pain. “Where are you going?”

He spins on the spot, watching as the galloping kelpie runs straight towards -

\- Arthur.

Arthur, stood watching them both, hood pushed down and hand reaching for his sword.

“Arthur,” Merlin screams, horrified. He runs after the kelpie, already knowing it's futile. “_Arthur_ \- “

The kelpie pulls to a stop in front of Arthur, head aimed at Arthur’s chest. Merlin reaches them in time to see the kelpie nuzzling into Arthur’s sternum.

There’s no blood. 

“Arthur?” Merlin asks tentatively. “Is it - “

Arthur reaches out a cautious hand and rubs the kelpie’s ears. The kelpie snorts happily. Arthur looks at him. “You said they eat people.”

Merlin’s heart is pounding in relief. “They do.”

Arthur hums thoughtfully. The kelpie appears to have lost interest in Arthur now, sniffing around in the grass and leaves. Arthur pats its flank gently, like he would do with one of the palace horses. “I guess that spell you used really worked.”

“I - “

Merlin freezes, Arthur’s words catching up with him. His heartbeat, which had been settling, skyrockets, beating in his chest like a frightened rabbit. 

Merlin tries to speak, but he can’t get the words out. The kelpie trots back to him. He wonders if it can sense his distress, because it nudges his shoulder gently.

Arthur is gazing at him. Merlin can’t read the look in his eyes. 

Merlin swallows. His legs are trembling. “You saw it all, didn’t you.”

He doesn’t phrase it as a question.

Arthur nods once.

Merlin feels his knees give way and he stumbles. “Arthur, I - “

“I watched you,” Arthur continues. His voice carries across the open air. “I saw you use magic.”

Merlin begins to cry. He can’t help it. 

“Merlin, why isn’t the kelpie trying to eat me?”

Merlin doesn’t understand why Arthur’s asking questions, why he’s talking about the bloody _kelpie_, when he’s about to banish Merlin forever. Tears stream down his face and he scrubs at his eyes miserably. “I - I spelled it, so he wouldn’t - so it wouldn’t hurt people anymore.”

“I see.”

Merlin’s throat is starting to hurt from crying. He’s uncomfortably aware of his wet shirt, clinging to him, damp and itchy. The backs of his thighs won’t stop shaking.

Arthur lifts his sword and Merlin flinches at the sound of Arthur sheathing it back into its scabbard. 

“Merlin.” Arthur sighs. “Merlin, I know about the magic.”

Merlin dashes at his face. “I know, Arthur, I had to stop the kelpie - “

“No,” Arthur interrupts, voice as sharp as his blade. “I knew about the magic before you decided to enchant a bloody great horse in the middle of a river.”

Merlin takes a shaky breath, though it feels like he’s inhaling glass. “The kelpie won’t hurt anyone anymore. I’ll - I’ll make sure it leaves, though, before you - before I - “

“Merlin,” Arthur says loudly. “I said I knew about the magic - “

“_Okay_, Arthur,” Merlin cries miserably, nails digging into his palms. “You’ve caught me, I know. I know I’ll be punished - “

“Merlin, you’re not listening,” Arthur snaps. He strides across the grass. “Yes, you’ve been completely inconspicuous about your magic this time, but prior to that - “

Merlin barrels on, utterly inconsolable now. He didn’t want Arthur to find out like this, not in this way, not over something so stupid. “Can you tell Gaius - “

Arthur grabs him by the arms, shaking him roughly. He startles Merlin so badly that Merlin abruptly stops talking.

“Merlin,” Arthur says fiercely. He’s gripping Merlin so tight it hurts. “I knew. About the magic. Before this.”

Merlin has no idea what is going on. “I know, you said you watched me.”

“No, Merlin,” Arthur huffs. Merlin’s arms are really starting to ache. “I knew about the magic before today.”

Everything clicks into place. Merlin gapes at him. “How - when - “

“Merlin.” Arthur has no right to say his name like that. Like a promise. “Merlin, I’ve known about your magic for months now.”

Merlin’s heart is going to give out.

Arthur is laughing now. “Merlin, you - you hate the tavern.”

Merlin finds the ability to choke out, “Nothing about this situation is remotely funny.”

“Merlin.” Why does he keep saying his name? ”Merlin, I am capable of investigating things for myself. You kept disappearing so I asked around, and the only time you’re ever there is to rescue Gwaine’s drunken ass.”

“And you hate ale,” Arthur continues, as though this is a perfectly normal comment to make. “You said so yourself and don’t think I don't notice you swapping it for water whenever we stop overnight at inns, on hunts or quests.”

That’s true. Merlin does do that, has done that a thousand times. He didn’t think Arthur would notice.

“And you’re not very subtle,” Bizarrely, Arthur ducks forward and presses his forehead to Merlin’s for one brief, dizzying moment. “I have never been so fortunate in battle, never had so many near misses.”

Merlin pulls away, shrugs Arthur’s hands off. His head is spinning and he licks his dry lips.

“If you are going to exile me, please just do it,” Merlin mumbles finally, completely exhausted.

Arthur flinches. “What? Merlin, I’m not going to exile you.”

It’s Merlin’s turn to flinch. “Oh.” 

Arthur grasps his chin. “And I’m not going to execute you, either, Merlin, by the gods - “

“Then what are you going to do!” Merlin shouts, tears welling up again. “I know you must be angry - “

“I was,” Arthur admits calmly. “But then I thought about all the times you’ve saved my life, all the times you’ve saved my people’s lives. Only to go back to being my manservant, at the end of it all. And I thought about the - the executions in Camelot. My father’s purge. How frightening it must be. How brave you’d have to be to stay by the crown prince’s side.”

“Well.” Merlin pulls his sleeve down over his palms and wipes at his face. “I was meant to be at your side. To always keep you safe. To protect you and Camelot, I’ve - I’ve _told_ you this.”

Arthur cups his face, tracing the tear tracks. “Yes, sweetheart. I know.”

Merlin’s bottom lip trembles. “Does you calling me sweetheart mean you’re not going to banish me?”

Arthur’s smile is blinding. “No, Merlin, I’m not going to banish you.”

Merlin sniffles. “Well. That’s okay, then. That’s good.” Merlin leans into Arthur tentatively. “I was born with magic. I couldn’t - I can’t help it.”

Arthur’s gaze is so gentle. He drops his hands from Merlin’s face, settling them on Merlin’s hips and pulling him closer. “I know.”

Merlin glares at him. “How do you know that _as_ _well_? You don’t know anything about magic!”

Arthur frowns as his runs his hands over Merlin’s wet shirt. “Why is your shirt damp? In all fairness, that one was more of a hunch. I couldn’t work out who would have taught you. You were born after the purge. I know the laws in Essetir aren’t the same as those in Camelot, but you’re close enough to the border that the - the fear would have spread. Gaius wouldn’t have taught you - no way would he have put you in that danger. And if you had been taught, why would you ever come to Camelot and practise it?”

“Besides, sometimes I thought you did magic without words. Gaius said only really powerful sorcerers could do that.”

“This is ridiculous,” Merlin mutters. Arthur nuzzles his neck, pressing a kiss to Merlin’s jaw. “I have - I have no idea what is happening. This is the worst night of my life.”

Arthur pulls Merlin in for a hug, holding him close. Merlin clings to him, wrapping his arms around Arthur and squeezing him tightly. Arthur must be getting wet from Merlin’s tunic, but he doesn't comment on it.

“I meant what I said,” Arthur whispers. He sways gently with Merlin in his arms. “About things being different when I’m king. I don’t pretend to understand everything, or that I’m not - frightened, sometimes. Or ignorant. I’m ignorant about lots of things to do with you.”

Merlin laughs hoarsely. “Never fathomed me out.”

Arthur kisses him; achingly slow and gentle. It’s the kind of kiss you feel down to your toes; Merlin moans into Arthur’s mouth unashamedly, fisting his hand in Arthur’s hair when Arthur bites down on his bottom lip. 

They break apart reluctantly. Merlin is starting to shiver in the evening air and Arthur’s now wet too, as he’s had Merlin plastered all over him. 

Merlin links their hands together, tugging Arthur along with him. “Where did the kelpie go?”

Arthur glances around, before gesturing. “Over there.”

The kelpie is frolicking around the river. It keeps darting its head towards the water, then pulling back with a frustrated snort. “I think it’s trying to catch fish. Do you think it knows how to? Arthur, what if it starves?”

“It’s not going to starve,” Arthur scoffs. “Its teeth are the size of my hand. It’s going to be fine.”

“Hm.” Merlin swings their hands between them. “Now that you’re cool with magic, we could keep it.”

“We are not keeping the kelpie.” 

“We could.”

“Where would we keep it?”

Merlin shrugs. “I could find somewhere. I can’t believe you knew about my magic.”

Arthur tightens his grip. The kelpie has finally struck lucky. “I didn’t always know. It took me some time to work it out.”

“Spent a lot of time doing that, did you?” Merlin teases, then grins as Arthur doesn’t meet his eyes. “You did! That’s how you knew about the ale thing as well. Stalking me.”

“It’s not stalking, you literally work for me, you’re there all the time - “

Merlin shoves him. “Shush, the kelpie has caught a fish.”

The kelpie eats the fish in three bites and makes direct eye contact with them the entire time.

“Maybe we won’t keep it.”

“Maybe not.”

Arthur tugs on his hand. “Come on, we need to get back. Meet up with the knights.” Arthur pulls on Merlin’s shirt with his free hand. “Get you out of these.”

“Talk,” adds Merlin, because they need to. Need to talk about everything said tonight, everything that’s changed. 

Arthur drops a kiss to Merlin’s knuckles. “And then we’ll talk.”

The kelpie spits out a fish bone. Arthur blanches. "Perhaps sends the kelpie back home first."

"Not a problem," Merlin grins and lets his eyes flash gold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this! Hopefully people enjoyed it. This is the first time I have ever wrote a canon time Merlin fic, so it was a lot of fun. I think. Honestly I'm just really sleepy.
> 
> on a separate note, my next merlin fic will be a cinderella au because i watched lily james and richard madden dancing together and my bi heart couldn't take it 
> 
> comments mean everything and thank you for getting to the end of this. I’ve had a really difficult time lately with my mental health and waking up to comments has been so amazing 
> 
> this story went in a lot of different directions and i don't know if i got arthur quite right, but how cute was that kelpie at the end right

**Author's Note:**

> I haven’t wrote these two in a very long time and never in canon time - so in the show time! 
> 
> Hope people liked this!! Comments mean the world 🌎


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